Psycho
by DivergentInsurgent
Summary: Drake Merwin has always hated Sam Temple. His death will aid Drake in his reign of Perdido Beach and Coates.
1. Torture: Psycho Style

**PSYCHO**

I

Gone Fanfic. All the characters are Michael Grant's. Plot is mine. Slightly OOC.

I hear him wake up. I hear his curses, his questions. I see the pain register in his eyes; I see fear mixed in there too. He gags, and spits out blood. I had punched him multiple times in the face. I could already see bruises forming. A smile tugs at my lips knowing that this is all my doing, knowing that I am the one who inflicted this pain upon him. It brings me joy at the thought that I am the one who broke him, that I am the one who brought fear into his eyes.

"Have a nice sleep, Sammie Boy?" I ask. "Or was it plagued with the thought of me whipping you to death, just like I almost did last time?"

I remember when I almost killed him in that power plant. I remember the surge of power that I felt as each blow connected. Good times.

It's fun to taunt him like this. But I know that the real fun hasn't even started yet. I smile again, a dark, twisted smile; my favorite kind of smile. I don't wait for a reply. Instead, I walk over to him and slap him in the face with my whip. Note to self: thank the Gaiaphage, and Lana.

I hear his sharp intake of breath. I see him bite his tongue. I am not satisfied with this; I want to hear him scream, to beg for mercy. I whip him again, harder this time and hear him scream. It's like music to my ears. I want to hear more music, so I whip him again, even harder than before. He shouts out again.

"You're a psycho, man," he screams "You can't kill me!"

He looks like he's about to pass out from fear. A warm feeling rushes through me. I am enjoying every second of this. I wonder what my parents would think if they were here. I'm pretty sure they knew that I was mental, but I don't think they could have foreseen this. No one could have.

"You really just figured that out?" "You're even dumber than I thought." Moron. "And what makes you think that I wouldn't relish every second of watching the life bleed out of you?" Maybe I hit him harder than I thought. Who cares? He's going to die anyway.

He struggles to come up with an answer to my question. Everyone in the whole freaking FAYZ knows that I wouldn't hesitate to kill a person, let alone Sam. He's probably one of the people I want to kill most, next to Diana. I would love to whip the crap out of her. But the Gaiaphage needs her, so I'm stuck with my fantasies.

"No answer, huh?" I say quietly. "I expected as much. Can we get on with the torturing?" I don't wait for an answer. I take a knife out of my back pocket. It's beautiful. Curved and sharpened to perfection .I've been waiting to use her for a long time. I throw it into the air and catch it. Sam's eyes widen. I laugh.

"Do you have any method of torture that you prefer?" I ask him. "I personally like to work with knives. More pain." I can't wait to start. I am as giddy as a five- year-old in a candy shop. It is so hard to contain myself. I grin at the sight of the great Sam Temple tied up and bloody.

I walk over to him, knife in hand. I thrust the knife down onto one of his fingers. It was not a completely clean slice, but I'm pretty sure it hurt like hell. He shrieks, so loudly that I almost cover my ears. Almost. I smile as I see his blood drip from the knife. The color is so beautiful, so dark and rich. If I were capable of love, I would fall in love with the color. I hear Sam's breathing become heavy. It starts to annoy me, so I stab him in his leg. His screams echo off of the walls.

"Please," he sobs, futilely trying to break free. Of course, he doesn't succeed. "Please don't do this to me!"

His begging is futile. I know he knows that I won't spare him. I spare no one.

"Shut it, you pathetic piece of crap." He really is rather irritating

Sam shuts up.

"Ahhh, that's better. Anywhere you would like to be stabbed?" I sound crazed. Like I belong in an insane asylum. I stab him again, this time in his left thigh. I pull the knife out and throw it on the carpet. The tears start to flow freely from his eyes. He begs for mercy, asking God to forgive him for all that he has done. But I don't care. I'm having far too much fun.

I almost forgot that I brought a suitcase full of weapons. Not that I need them, of course. I _alone_ am a weapon. Just for the sake of creativity, I guess. I bend down and pick out a make-shift spear made with a knife and glass on top. They really have to manufacture these things. Very useful.

Sam's eyes are half-closed. Probably slipping into oblivion from all of the pain. I feel a flare of anger. I want him to experience every second of this. But, of course, there is noting that I can do. I just have to make the best of it while he is still awake.

I bring the spear up towards my face and inspect it closely. It's not perfect, but it'll do the job. I swing it up like I'm about to hit a baseball and bring it down on Sam's midsection. Blood oozes out from his wounds and some of it spatters onto my shirt. He clutches his, mid-section and screams louder than the other times. I laugh a mad cackle that belongs to an insane person. I probably _am_ insane.

"Please stop," he screams. "I'll do anything!" He sounds desperate and helpless. Two qualities I love in my victims. "Anything! Just don't kill me!" His voice shakes with fear. He really thinks that I would show him mercy. How naïve. I love every moment of this.

I look at Sam. His eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot. It looks like he hasn't slept for days. Let's hope this makes him less likely to fight back. Not that I couldn't have taken him. Just because it would be easier.

This is just too great. It's funny how he thinks that there's actually anything that will make me stop. He's even more of an idiot of that stupid surfer friend of his. What was his name? Quinn. That was it. What a stupid name. That mother of his must have been deranged.

"Just shut up already. You're seriously annoying me right now." To make sure that he shuts up, I punch him hard in the mouth.

His hands immediately fly up to his face, like a coward.

I punch him again, and this time he goes unconscious. I grab the knife off the floor and clean the blood off it with my white shirt. I purposely wore white today because I think the two colors contrast nicely with each other. Now you can only see the blood, none of the white fabric.

I turn the knife over in my hands, looking closely at the instrument that will break Sam Temple. I force open his mouth and grab his tongue. Ew. Talk about disgusting. But it must be done. I bring the knife down and slowly try to cut away at his tongue.

Horror movie quantities of blood spill out from his mouth. The scent wafts up to my nose and I inhale deeply, savoring the metallic scent. He starts to squirm, so I punch him again. He's out cold. Finally the tongue falls from his mouth. Excellent. That'll shut him up for sure. I need to think of something else to do, so I go back to my suitcase of horrors.

I see a gun at the bottom of the suitcase. I usually don't like working with guns, because of the lack of creativity, but I was in the mood to go all action movie. Next to it I see a box of bullets. I killed a kid for these. He got too greedy, so I had to teach him a lesson. I didn't plan to kill him. I just wanted to seriously injure him. Oh well, killing two birds with one stone, I guess. Emphasis on the killing. It was funny to hear him scream. Eventually he got on my nerves, so I broke his neck. His cronies just dropped the box and ran away. Some friends.

I heard that these were the type that blew your prey's head up. But I don't want to kill him yet. Not just yet.

"Hmm… maybe in the foot or something." As I load the gun, I think about Astrid. Sam's know-it-all girlfriend with a "holier-than-thou" attitude. God, do I hate her. I would do anything to get my hands on her neck and just _twist. _It would be lovely to see her ugly face when she hears the news about her idiot boyfriend. It was his fault, anyway. He was just so easy to hate. He brought this upon himself.

I finish loading the gun, and I almost skip over to Sam. I wish I could video tape this or something, so I could experience the elation I feel all over again. I click the safety off and shoot him in the foot. He obviously felt it because he starts to squeal like a little girl.

"Have a nice nap, each second, I grow more and more anxious to see him dead, to see him bleed out. My voice must have portrayed that because he looks like he's about to soil his pants. Maybe he has already.

I saunter over to Sam. I look down to see that I was right. He did soil his pants. A small laugh escapes my mouth. It sounds wild and irrational.

"Ready to meet your demise, Sammie Boy? Any last words?" I'm sure he'll mention that annoying girlfriend of his.

To my surprise, he doesn't. He just goes completely silent. His crying and sniffling stop. I don't know how long I have been waiting to do this. It's like a dream. Sometime during this fun little torture session, I decided to burn him alive. I don't know when, but I like it. I grab the gasoline from the suitcase and get ready to work. I grin. This is going to be fun.


	2. The Story of a Psycho

I start to unscrew the lid of the gasoline bottle. I was just walking around and I found an abandoned gas station, undiscovered by the kids from Perdido Beach or Coates. How unlikely, I know. But I'm known for finding things that I'm not supposed to. When I was a kid, I found out that my mom was cheating on my dad. I had found a picture of her and her "lover" in her purse while I was looking for some gum. On the back, there was an address. I was outraged. How could she do that to my father? To this day, I still hate her. My father was the only thing I cared about in this world, so I told him; I thought he deserved to know. When I told him he looked shocked. I expected that, but what I didn't expect was what he did next. He took a gun from his drawer. I knew he had a gun, just in case, but I never thought he would use it. He told me we were going to go for a ride. My father asked me if I knew where he lived, so I told him. I suspected that he was going to do something rash, but I didn't stop him. I was seething. I didn't care if he killed him.

When we got to the house, I studied it. It was a rancher with a dead lawn. It looked like it wasn't tended to for years. There were bottles of booze lying around, too. We walked up to the door together. Before we went inside, he told me this, "Revenge is the best medicine, despite what they tell you."

I have remembered that piece of advice for years. It has helped me through various situations. He had kicked the door in and bolted inside. Once dad had found him, he shot him in the head. After dad had picked up the casing, he explained to me that if they found the bullet, they might as well have found you.

After that day, I wasn't the same. I wanted to do that someday. I wanted someone to beg for their life. I like to replay that day over in my head occasionally. We never talked about what happened anymore.

A few months after the incident I was looking around my father's room. I walked over to the drawer that he kept his gun in and pulled on the handle. He usually locked it every night; but to my surprise it opened. I had only wanted to look at it, but I had gotten an idea.

Our next door neighbors, the Hopkinson's, were absolutely vile. They had an annoying daughter named Nadia and a son named Marcus, who I hated. I concealed the gun and told my mother I was going for a walk. Once I got to the house, I rang the doorbell. Mrs. Hopkinson answered the door. I pulled out the gun, shot her in the stomach, and left quickly. I don't know why I did it, but I did.

I heard that she had been rushed to the hospital. Unfortunately, she lived. Someone must have seen me, because the cops had come to my house and arrested me and hauled me to the station. Most of the time there I had spaced out, not even trying to pay attention. What caught my attention was the word "juvie". My blood froze. No, no, no! But then I heard another word, "expunged". They had said that I either go to juvie, or go to Coates Academy and have my record expunged when I was eighteen. The latter sounded a thousand times better.

Right away my parents responded. By the next moth I was attending classes at Snobs 'R Us. But I guess it was better than spending time with the idiots in kiddie jail. If I was going to jail, I wanted it to be in the big leagues. Not for something stupid like attempted murder. No, I wanted to go in for something bigger. I wanted to be feared.

I snap back into reality from my daze. I didn't realize that I spaced out. I start to pour the gasoline on Sam. He starts to cry again, louder than before. Instead of punching him, I kick him in the crown jewels.

He gasps and immediately shuts up.

I crack a smile. People have told me that my features were shark-like. They were correct in thinking that. Just like a shark, I will attack when someone is down. That's why they're my favorite animals. I dump the rest of the gasoline on Sam and crouch down and pick up a box of matches from the suitcase. I forget where I got them. On the front is a dancing flame with a face. I take a match out and rub against the side. My smile grows so much that all my teeth are showing. I toss the match at Sam.

**SAM'S POV**

Time slows down as the match falls towards me. I think of Astrid and her beautiful face. I think about my mother and the father I never knew. In that short space of time, I think about everything in my life. The FAYZ, Edilio, Quinn, Caine, Diana, the Gaiaphage, just everything that I have seen in the past year.

Slam. Time goes back to normal speed. The match hits the ground. Instantly tongues of flames shoot upward and race towards me. In a matter of seconds, I feel a searing pain. It's worse than anything I have ever felt. It spreads from my legs to my arms, engulfing me. The heat is unbearable. I try to scream, but I realize that I can't. My tongue is gone. That sicko cut it off. I hear him laughing madly at my pain. If I'm going to, I want to die respected. Obviously, that won't happen.

By now the pain is even worse than before, I don't even know how that's possible, but it is. I wish I would pass out, but unfortunately I do not receive that luxury. The fire creeps up to my chest. I won't last long. Maybe I'll be like Brittney and never die. I wonder what it would be like, to endure any amount of pain and never drift away. It sounds like a living hell. I hope that I'm not like her. I don't think that I could take it.

**DRAKE'S POV**

The flames are almost to Sam's neck now. Good thing I thought of cutting his tongue out, or else he would be screaming. He is squirming around and trying to escape, to no avail. Finally, the inferno reaches face. His hair starts to burn away, face melting in the flames, leaving a horrible scent in the air and a horrible image. The scent of burning flesh is pungent. I take a deep breath. The smell of death in its purest form. Red boils appear on Sam everywhere. It is a repulsive sight, but I love it.

**SAM'S POV**

I am almost gone. The world seems to go black at the edges. The crackling of the flames drowns out my whimpers. Before I am gone, I think about Caine, my oh-so-wonderful twin brother. He would appear to be joyous on the outside when he heard this news. One less annoying guy for him to deal with. On the inside though, I know he will be furious. He needs me. With the FAYZ going dark, people will be more afraid than ever. I am the only source of light in this wretched place, the only source of hope. People will revolt, they will become unruly. Caine likes everything neat and tidy and easy to manage.

I say one last goodbye to the world. My muscles relax, and I close my eyes for the last time. I, Sam Temple, drift off to oblivion…

**DRAKE'S POV**

Eventually he twitches one last time and Sam goes still. The smell of burnt flesh is overwhelming. The flames continue to burn and devour his whole body. I feel a surge of happiness. For about a year I have been waiting to do this, waiting for my revenge. I had things to thank him for, though, as much as I hate to admit it. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't even have my whip, or my immortality. But because of him, I'm stuck with that loser Brittney. Because of him, I had to endure the pain of my freaking _arm_ burned off. I'm pretty sure most never had to go through that. But then again, none of the kids in the FAYZ are normal, even if they're not _moofs_. They've all committed sins; they've all done things that they regret. Children have become murderers, girls have become women, and boys have become men. A sad reality,

But it is a true reality. One that people are starting to accept, but not fully. They need to buck up and accept the facts. There is no good left.

**So...**


	3. Disposing Sam

**A/N I am so sorry for taking so long! R&R please!**

**III**

For a few minutes I just stand there. I just absorb the smell and the reality of what just happened. It weighs down on me like a ton of bricks. Now I have all these responsibilities. Disposing the body is going to be hard enough, but what about Caine? In no way am I afraid of Caine. I've never been afraid of anyone. What I am concerned about is how he will react. I know Caine hates me as much as anybody else, but I used to work with him. I know his strengths and weaknesses. I can use that to my advantage. One of the things that can destroy him is Diana. The downside of love, I suppose, if there is any upside, which I doubt, only extra baggage to carry.

I grab Sam's body from the chair and drop him on the floor, not caring if the burnt remains of him get onto my clothing, which is already soaked in blood, anyway. The smell does not bother me. I have always loved the smell of blood, whether human or animal. When I was younger, I used to find stray puppies and microwave them. I figured that no one would miss them if they were strays. Every time one of the dogs whimpered, or barked, I would merely laugh. When the barking ceased, soon after would follow an explosion of guts and blood along with a sound that is too beautiful to describe.

The only disadvantage was that I had to clean up the mess of guts time after time. I didn't mind the cleaning; I just loved to see my work. Sometimes when I missed a spot, my mother would ask me what it was, knowing full well that it was blood. What she _didn't_ know was whether it was human or chose to believe that her son was an angel who would never hurt a fly, knowing deep down that she was raising a monster of the worst sort. I always told her that it was pasta sauce or ketchup or something. She always nodded her head and told me to clean up after myself.

When I went to bed at night a few years back, a few days after my father killed that man that was having an affair with my cow of a mother, I happened to hear sobs coming from her room. The day before, local news stations described the "tragic murder of twenty-nine year old Dante Wilicker". They then put up his picture and I immediately recognized him. It was that man who my father and I killed. Technically, I'm not the one who killed him, but I am the one who supplied him the address, and I did accompany him to the house. I would be considered an accomplice. I was thrilled at the thought that mother would have to endure pain like my father and I had gone through.

Anyway, back to the present. Earlier today I had found a wheelbarrow in some abandoned tool shed, absolutely perfect for carrying a dead body into the desert. (Insert evil smile here.) I grab the wheelbarrow and roll it over to Sam. I grip his carcass and hoist him up into the wheelbarrow. At times like this, I am thankful for the FAYZ. If it weren't for it, he'd probably weigh as much as me. Thanks to a little starvation and a whole lot of stress, he's relatively easy to carry. By now the stench is so strong that I almost cover my nose.

I had been concerned about where I would kill him, but I got lucky. Around Coates there are a few mansions that are not too far from the desert, so I chose a house with a basement and got to work.

It was pretty easy to get to Sam. I had been sneaking around and overheard that he was going to go to Clifftop today and visit Lana, the healer girl. On his way there, I had snuck up behind him and ambushed him. Luckily, everything went smoothly and according to plan. To my advantage, he wasn't very strong. It was a piece of cake.

I push the wheelbarrow up the stairs. Once I get to the door, I look down at Sam, or what used to be Sam. It's a grotesque sight. His whole body is blackened to a crisp like overdone steak on a grill.

I open the door and grab my other gun and I walk out of the house. The sun is setting and crickets are already starting to come out. Our little session 'o fun took longer than expected. I can't say that I'm not happy about that, though. It was one of the best nights of my life. After twenty or so minutes of walking, I start to enter the desert. Everything is deathly silent, and I like it. Everything in my old house was always loud. My parents were always screaming at each other. I could never get peace. They never talked about Dante, the man my father shot, and for that I was grateful. I don't think I could have taken it. I would have killed my mother in the most painful way I could think of right then and there. I wouldn't have regretted it, either.

As I venture farther into the desert, I start to hear the coyotes. I hear their howling and their pack leader calling out instructions in his bad English. The other coyotes couldn't talk to him, but they can understand him. Oh, and, of course, this is courtesy of my lord, the Gaiaphage.

When I got closer to them, the instructions immediately stopped. They feared me almost as much the people in the FAYZ feared me. And I love it. They should be afraid; they have no idea what I am capable of, at least not fully.

"Food for you guys. Make sure there is nothing left - or else." To make my point, I crack my whip. They whimper in fear. I laugh. I glance at the pack leader. He's a new one. I wonder what happened to the last one; starvation, probably.

"Pack leader thank Whip Hand. But Pack Leader must ask who this body is?"

I don't understand why it would matter to him, but I don't see any harm in telling him. If I suspected there was, they would be punished severely.

"It's Bright Hands. Eat up. You might not get any more chow for a long time." I do intend to kill more people. But I tell them this so they relish their meal. So they eat every last bit of him. I don't want any trace of Sam left.

I leave the wheelbarrow there and walk away, humming a happy little tune. Everything is falling into place. Sam is dead. Caine will be under my control soon; and that idiot Astrid will soon join her beloved Sam in hell. I start to cackle in happiness. I am the true King of the FAYZ. Everyone will bow down to me in fear. They will tremble at the mention of my name. They will faint at the sight of me.

As I draw nearer and nearer to my new mansion, I recite a mantra in my head. "All hail the king." I will make sure they do.


	4. Dark Messages, Darker Revelations

**A/N: Hey… so fourth chapter. Enjoy! R&R if you like the story. Thx.**

**IV**

When I arrive at my mansion I immediately flop down on the couch. All that torturing was exhausting! I decide to take a nap. When I wake up I can think of what to do next.

* * *

When I awaken I feel a strange sensation. Like someone is reading through all my thoughts. I feel exposed. Then I realize that I felt this before, when the Gaiaphage was in my mind.

_Come to me, Drake. I need to see you! Come now. Make sure you bring the coyotes._

I automatically shoot up, disturbing the quiet of the mansion. Finally! Something to do in this wretched place! Part of me wonders what it wants, but the logical part of me thinks it has to do with Sam. Figures. He is an all-knowing demon, after all.

Unfortuanately, I know from experience that the walk to the mine shaft is a long one. It doesn't matter, though; my lord will guide me through every step of the way. The trip will take even longer, considering that I have to take those _things_ with me.

Before I go to the desert, I decide to do some spying on the citizens of the FAYZ. So I know how they're doing.

The walk isn't too far from here, luckily. The only problem is that they've probably been expecting me. I grab some supplies and walk out of the large house. I don't even need food or water to survive, but it makes me feel more human. I miss the taste of a cheeseburger.

Once I arrive and Lake Tramonto I see that things aren't looking too bad, unfortunately. I see some of the kids gardening, and that idiot kid Quinn fishing with his lackeys. Everyone looked at peace, but if you looked in their eyes, you could see the pain and loss in there. The same look that almost every kid in the FAYZ has. Except me.

As I look around a little more I see something. At first I think it is just a trick of a light, but it stays there, impossible not to notice.

It's a huge black stain

Thoughts race inside my head. What if the whole entire FAYZ goes dark? People will go crazy, they'll rebel. I grin. This is exactly what I need! Soon enough I will be the ruler of this evil place. They will succumb to my overwhelming power. Soon. I must be patient. Eventually everything will fall into place.

A strange sensation rushes through me, like I am being turned inside out. Brittney is taking over again. I'm lucky that I got almost a day, the longest time between switching ever. I hate that metal- mouthed freak. Once upon time, her braces were shiny and new. Now they are twisted and covered with dirt and blood. Maybe one day I will get rid of her. But that day isn't today.

**BRITTNEY'S POV**

I feel free again, being stuck inside that demon is like being trapped in a box with murderous thoughts written on the walls. It's like I am probing through every single crevice in his mind. But he is in the right direction, unlike all the other people in this place. He supports our true Lord, the Darkness. That is all that matters.

As quick as the feeling of freedom comes, it disappears. Instead it is replaced with an immense feeling of failure and disgust. I have failed my brother, I have failed the Darkness. I have done things that could never be forgiven. Who knows what Drake has done this time? I must redeem myself. In order for my soul to be redeemed, I must devote my life to God. I must devote my life to The Darkness.

In the minutes that follow, I learn that Drake has been spying on some of the kids at Lake Tramanto. Also, that he has received a message from It. I must go to The Darkness.

I look around the village a little more and I find the stain that Drake was thinking about. It is huge and I am sure that everyone has noticed it. I wonder if they think the whole entire FAYZ will go dark.

I walk out of the lakeside village unnoticed and I head in the direction of the desert. I am lucky that I am not very tall. Drake picked a horrible hiding place.

As I walk down the familiar route that takes me to the desert I wonder what the Gaiaphage needs to tell us. Whatever it is, it's for the best.

Ever since that kid Duck Zhang got to It, It has been weaker than usual. Unable to communicate with his subjects often, his wishes are rarely carried out. It is a wonder that he was able to reach Drake today. He must be gaining strength, then. Then It must be sharing good news with us today.

I almost forgot about the coyotes! I must bring them to him! I wonder what for; It does not usually request their presence. Today must be a special occasion.

When I near the coyotes I hear directions being called out. I also see something shocking. Almost as shocking as that black stain I saw earlier.

The coyotes are covered with something's charred remains and blood. What could they have eaten? What if it was…a human? NO! I can't think like that!

When I come close enough to see them, the talking ceases. It occurs to me that they have never seen me before, only Drake. And the Gaiaphage. They don't trust me, and if I'm not careful, I could be their undying food. Ouch.

"Who you are? I not see you before, I Pack Leader." He is a new one.

"My name is Brittney. I share Whip Hand's body." I have no idea if he believes me or not, but I have to hope.

"Why you here? You come to kill us?"

"No, the Gaiphage has requested your presence, along with mine."

"Okay…but if trick, I feast on metal-mouthed girl!"

I am amazed that they understand me. The Gaiphage has proved, yet again, that his powers are great and incomprehensible. If It can grant the power of speech, it can surely take it away.

"Before we leave, what was the last thing you guys ate?" I doubt they'll actually answer me, but to my surprise they do.

"Whip Hand bring food. He say it Bright Hands. Very generous. Taste very good, too"

With that, my blood runs cold. I fed them a boy. I am a murderer. There is no redemption now. I feel nothing except the cold clutches of soullessness.

**Sorry about the late update. School, some writer's block AND the fact that for some reason, my computer wouldn't let me update. Check out my other FF's. Thanks, Read and Review. -lauren**


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